


Plaything

by Dianoga



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: DarkPilot, F/M, Gangbang, Implied past Poe/Ben, Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quick Fill, non-con/rape, possessive!Kylo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 18:25:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6020362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dianoga/pseuds/Dianoga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe meets the Knights of Ren. It goes well for everyone except for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plaything

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the TFA Kink Meme and originally posted [here](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/2821.html?thread=4522501#cmt4522501). 
> 
> "Give me Poe being gangbanged -- I'm not particularly fussed about who's doing it. Would prefer non-con/dub-con."

This could have gone better, Poe thought. It was a common surmise on his part, really. He had a habit of thinking those exact words every time he got punched in the face, tripped an alarm, or crashed a ship. 

This time, however, it was a more severe understatement. 

Poe would have liked to tell the shadowy figures around him all about it. Really, it was a shame that they had prevented him from speaking. He had some excellent terrified babble to share with the class, if he did say so himself. 

Kylo Ren’s ability to freeze a person where they stood was a real downer. 

Said Sith Lord (was he a Sith? Poe was pretty sure if you did not become a Jedi you became a Sith, but then again, he had never paid particular attention to the ranking system of Force Users) was slowly circling him, like a large cat might a meal. That would have been unnerving enough. His company, however, made it worse. 

Poe had heard of the Knights of Ren. But he had never seen them before now. They all wore black, like Kylo himself, and expressionless masks covered their faces. They were motionless where they sat, as if waiting for their master to make some sort of decision. 

Poe had seen what Kylo Ren’s decisions led to before. He was not eager to see them again. 

The room Poe had found himself in was deep within a Destroyer, deeper than he had been even before. It was laid out like a strange lounge, with two curved couches facing one another, a low table between them. It was this table Poe was on, displayed like a centerpiece for the Knights, seated on the couches, to admire. 

“Poe.” A leather-clad hand reached out, fingers stroking down the side of his face, tracing his jaw. “I’ve missed you.” Kylo’s tone was a cruel mockery of the boy he used to be. A wave of revulsion shot through Poe as he remembered the awkward, gangly teenager he had once adored. Had there ever been anything true in Ben Solo? Or had it all just been a mask for _this_ monster in front of him? 

“You shouldn’t have run away from me,” Kylo continued. “I could have been kinder, once you had given me what I wanted.” 

It was a torture of its own to scream in his own head and not make a single sound. Poe wanted to ask him what Kylo defined as kindness. Picking his mind clean of any useful information and then killing him? 

Poe wondered frantically if Kylo was going to kill him now. He wondered how much it was going to hurt before that release came. 

“But you always were difficult.” Kylo let out a long-suffering sigh, and Poe felt an invisible force push him to his knees. He hit the metal of the table hard, unable to even wince as pain shot through his legs. There was a chuckle from one of the Knights. 

“You always liked the challenging ones,” said one of them. His helmet was squared and brutish, like the rest of him looked to be. 

“I do not know why I am intent on making things hard on myself.” To Poe’s added surprise, Kylo’s response seemed to be amused. A chill ran down his spine. The only thing that might be worse than being surrounded by Kylo’s personal lackeys was the thought that he might be surrounded by Kylo’s _friends_. 

“It is more fun that way,” said another, more feminine voice, this time from a Knight with a mask broken apart into a grid of squares. 

“That it is,” Kylo agreed. He had circled behind Poe now, out of sight. “And I think we are deserving of a bit of _fun_.” 

The previously impassive Knights were stirring now, obviously interested in the proceedings. The attention frightened Poe more than the indifference. 

“What do you think?” Kylo’s hand was suddenly in Poe’s hair, stroking it back as if he were a fond pet. “Should we let him scream? Or should we make him want it?”

There was a flurry of discussion on that matter. Poe could not tell exactly what the plan was, but he knew enough to know that it would end poorly for him either way.

In the end, a compromise was reached. Poe was to want it, but know exactly what was happening. He wanted to scream, to beg them to just _tell_ him what was going on, so that he could focus on handling what was going to happen and not simply being afraid of the unknown. 

He got his answer quick enough. 

The sensation of Kylo Ren forcing himself into his mind was not one Poe had forgotten, however hard he had tried. He managed a strangled sound as Kylo pushed aside all resistance, digging painfully for whatever it was he was looking for. 

The first wave of pleasure was a shock. 

The invisible force that was holding him still disappeared, allowing him to fall forward onto his hands, but Poe was no longer able to move for another reason. Arousal was coursing through him, his cock rapidly hardening as Kylo stroked a deeply instinctual part Poe’s mind. He felt like his skin was on fire, as if a lover had spent hours teasing him, coaxing him to this position. The fact that Poe knew that was far from the truth did not help his him any. 

“Look at him,” murmured one of the Knights. “He already looks ready to beg for it.” 

“He begs beautifully,” said Kylo, stroking a possessive hand over the curve of Poe’s ass. Poe shivered at the contact, so near and yet so far from what he suddenly found he needed. 

“No,” he tried, as Kylo slid an arm around him, cupping a hand between his legs. Kylo just laughed, fingering his length through the fabric of his pants. 

“You’ll love it, Poe,” Kylo answered, a command in it Poe could not deny. “Just like you used to.”

Poe belatedly thought to struggle. He sat up on his knees, attempting to twist and strike out, but strong hands caught his wrists. The Knight with the square mask had stood, grabbing his hands and holding him with inhuman strength. 

“You bastards—“ Poe choked as Kylo’s other hand found his throat, squeezing sharply. 

“Uh-uh. None of your smart mouth.” Kylo lazily flicked his fingers, causing Poe’s belt to unbuckle, his pants to fall open at the waist. He slid his hand into the new opening, leather smooth against the bare skin of Poe’s cock. Poe barely managed enough breath for a whimper. 

“Make sure he’s wet enough, this time,” said a Knight in a hooded cloak. Poe could not see Kylo’s face, but he could hear the disgruntled twist of his lips when he responded. 

“Preparing them is so boring,” he shot back. 

“Make him do it himself,” said the one with the squares. Kylo’s hand paused as he considered the response. 

“Good idea.” Suddenly Kylo withdrew. There was a hiss of a container opening, and then the Sith returned, waving away the Knight holding Poe’s wrists. Poe wanted to haul off and hit him the moment he had the chance, but even he realized how poor a decision that would be at this moment. 

Kylo tossed a small tube to him, and he caught it on reflex. 

“If you do not want us to fuck you raw,” Kylo said, sweetly, revealing the end-game that Poe had been most frightened of, “you will prepare yourself.” 

Poe looked down at the tube in his hands, mind blank for a long moment. Then he slowly used his newfound freedom to look around him at the assembled Knights, masks all turned towards him. 

“Please don’t,” he said to Kylo, daring to beg for whatever mercy might be left in him. It was a useless gesture. Kylo stayed where he was, but Poe felt his hand on his throat again. 

“Do it, or I’ll make you bleed.” Poe did not know how he managed to nod while choking, but Kylo let him go. He fell forward again, wheezing for breath. 

Then he slowly twisted the cap off of the tube and spread the lubricant across his fingers. 

There were whoops of appreciation that made his cheeks burn as he eased his pants down. He tried to swallow his shame as he reached between his own legs, finding the pucker of skin there with a practiced hand. Closing his eyes, he began to finger himself. 

Poe did not notice Kylo re-enter his mind until it was too late. Kylo had found the center of pleasure again, and stroked it viciously. A moan Poe had not meant to make was tore out of him, and he found himself shoving himself down hard on his fingers. 

“What a whore,” someone murmured appreciatively. Poe wanted to snap back, deny it, but he could not stop himself from fucking himself on his fingers, trying to relieve some of the desperate arousal that had welled up in him again. But no matter what he did, no matter how many fingers he spread himself with, relief was held just a hair’s breadth from him. 

“Poe.” Kylo spoke his name like a lover. Poe had not seen him sit down, and he did not know when Kylo had undone his pants and began stroking himself in time with Poe’s thrusts. “Poe, you want me.”

The words were laced with a command, Kylo twisting the power of the Force with his tongue. 

Poe had never wanted anyone more in his life. 

Part of him was screaming, knowing it was wrong, that everything he was feeling was a trick. But Poe could not stop himself. He was in Kylo’s lap in seconds, straddling his thighs and pushing down desperately against the tip of Kylo’s cock. 

Kylo laughed, an ugly, devilish sound, and thrust his hips upward. Poe screamed as he was forced down onto him, stretched around his girth without pretense. 

“You feel perfect,” Kylo murmured as he began to fuck him roughly, jarring Poe with each jerk of his hips. Poe tried to remember how to hate him, how to fight against the sensation that this was right and everything he wanted. 

A hand grabbed him by the hair, and he found himself bent over backwards, hanging off of Kylo’s knees. A cock, hard and already dripping with precum, was shoved unceremoniously into his mouth. 

“Suck him,” Kylo said, and Poe swallowed the cock down as his mind screamed. 

“Such a good little slut,” the Knight said, thrusting erratically into his mouth. “You should – keep this one –“ 

“Maybe I will,” Kylo answered, pushing Poe’s shirt up to explore his chest. He pinched at a nipple, obviously enjoying the whimper it drew. “I’ll keep him at my bedside.” 

Poe tried to shut out their conversation, the sound of the other Knights admiring the show, the feeling of being fucked by both men at once. He did not know how long it went on, Kylo bucking up into him as he choked on the other Knight’s cock, but he was jerked back to reality as the Knight grabbed him by the jaw, forcing him to swallow he came deep in his throat. A moan told him Kylo appreciated the view. It only took another few thrusts before Kylo too was coming, filling Poe from the other end. 

They shoved him onto the table, gasping for breath and leaking. The respite is brief. 

He does not know how long they keep him there. Kylo’s Force-laced orders blur together. Fuck yourself on him. Take her in your mouth. Lick him clean. He is passed around the Knights like a toy, each of them unique in their way of playing with him. One likes to come on his face, mark him that way. One likes to hold him down and ride him until he is raw and spent. One likes to bend him over, slapping his ass until it’s raw before he fucks him. 

And Kylo. Kylo likes to take him, likes to touch him, likes to always have a hand on him to remind him exactly who he belongs to in this situation. 

It is after his fellow Knights have tired and left that Kylo removes his mask, forcing Poe’s head up so that he can kiss him with a false sweetness. 

“You’ll never leave me again,” Kylo says. 

Poe lets the blackness take him.


End file.
